


i know your heart (and you know mine)

by mlmkillua (dvinare)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Apologies, Blood and Injury, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Guilt, Heavy Angst, M/M, Poetry, Tenderness, set after the dodgeball game in greed island
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvinare/pseuds/mlmkillua
Summary: Touching him means he exists, breathing him in means he’s as close as humanly possible, listening to his hearth singing a quiet melody, trained to never skip a beat too fast, means he’s alive.“Killua, tell me it was my fault.” sobs Gon into Killua’s neck.“Gon.”“Don’t. Just say it. I need to hear it from you.”
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 7
Kudos: 181





	i know your heart (and you know mine)

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this last year, edited it last month...bon appetit  
> twitter: [@mlmkillua](https://twitter.com/mlmkillua)  
> link to fic/moodboard: [@mlmkillua](https://twitter.com/mlmkillua/status/1263605226583601154)  
> 

_"Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us._

_These, our bodies, possessed by light._

_Tell me we’ll never get used to it."_

_-Richard Siken, Scheherazade_

Gon is stubborn. He’s fierce, a walking disaster, shines like a star, burns like a hot kettle left on the stove for too long.

  
  
Gon is twelve.

  
  
Gon is twelve and his shoulders are trembling, as he rests his head in the juncture of Killua’s neck, hands wrapping around his waist in a sort of desperate embrace. Suddenly Killua’s carrying the weight of not one but two people- himself and the boy, whose small body has caved after the rush of adrenaline has faded, leaving behind only regrets and bone-deep exhaustion.

  
  
Gon is tired and guilty, mostly guilty.

  
  
He could easily push away the fatigue, act like he’s not about to collapse any second now, but the guilt. It’s eating him alive, swallowing his very being with no remorse. He shouldn’t be so ready to let his body be carried by Killua, not when the boy's hands are raw meat, skin all but gone. He shouldn’t burden him physically anymore than he already has, but he finds himself craving this closeness with burning ferocity, this contact between their bodies. Gon needs to touch his skin, breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat to reassure himself that Killua is there. He’s not some cruel manifestation of his imagination, thin air, which will pass him by inevitably and leave him with ruffled hair and a red nose. No, he is there, body solid, blood rushing through it. He exists and is standing right in front of him, under the black sky, stars making his white hair glow softly.

  
  
Touching him means he exists, breathing him in means he’s as close as humanly possible, listening to his hearth singing a quiet melody, trained to never skip a beat too fast, means he’s alive.

Gon’s slight trembling grows into audible shaking, his breathing erratic and when Killua rests his head a top of his, Gon’s heart does something incredibly ugly. It starts beating rapidly as though it’s fighting for its survival, as though someone has it in their hands and is waiting for the perfect moment to squeeze it, squeeze it so hard it bursts.

  
  
And Gon knows these hands because they belong to the same person, who is carrying his entire being, handling it with such gentleness it's almost cruel. Gon is aware that Killua’s lack of touch is due to his injured hands but he’s not sure what to make of this knowledge. Something annoying and small whispers into his ear that this is punishment, that Killua is disgusted, tired of making Gon’s wrongs right.

  
  
There is the part of him, which wants to agree and accept the words at face value, there’s also the part of him which wants to stay by Killua’s side. He steps all over the voice and hopes it dies.

  
  
"Killua, tell me it was my fault.” sobs Gon into Killua’s neck.

  
  
"Gon-”

  
  
"Don’t. Just say it. I need to hear it from you.”

  
  
Killua cradles the smaller boy's face in his hands, the bloody bandages rough against the skin of his cheeks. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable however, Killua’s touch is so light it’s barely there. Gon points a worried look at his hands but before he tries to open his mouth Killua silences him with the look. The one, which translates to it doesn’t hurt, stop trying to change the topic. 

  
  
Fat tears roll down Gon’s face, some mixing with the blood on the stitches, others meeting at his chin, falling, falling until they hit the solid ground and are no longer visible.

  
  
"Gon, it’s your fault.” 

Killua swallows, the lump in his throat having grown size three and refusing to move. It feels like he’s going to choke, to die, and it’s nothing new- this feeling that crawls slowly and takes his body prisoner, but he’s never been afraid of it. Never, until today, because he finally has something, someone to lose and it’s terrifying.

It’s one thing feeling the drops hit his neck but looking at Gon’s uncovered face- pupils drowning in salty tears, eye bags heavy and red; it’s atrocious. Killua holds him with care, hands trembling because any movement can hurt him beyond repair. It hits him just how breakable Gon is, how easily one could shatter him to pieces. He’s flawless that’s why the scars are always so deep and visible on his tanned skin, he’s immaculate that's why they look so wrong, so ugly covering him from head to toe.

  
  
"But I forgive you.” Killua wonders if the words had in fact made it out of his mouth or not, because his voice has never been so small, so quiet, sounding like a prayer, which was never meant to be heard.

  
  
"Killua, you can’t.”

  
  
"Gon,” Killua rests their foreheads together.” it hurts, okay.” Gon flinches at the words, so Killua tightens his hold the slightest bit.” It hurts bad. My skin- it feels like it’s not there. Like someone has peeled it layer by layer and my muscles.. it's like they’ve been ripped out, leaving nothing but bones behind.

I guess it’s contradictory. I shouldn’t be able to feel anything if all that’s left of me are rotten bits and pieces, but I do, I still feel every part of my body. And you know what that means? My hands are alive and by extension I am alive. If I were to feel nothing I’d assume that my existence has perished.

But I feel it, with every fibre of my being I am experiencing this excruciating pain. That’s why it is okay. It’s proof that I’ll heal, it’s proof that I’m here..right next to you. So when I say I forgive you, I’m not dismissing the pain nor the damage. I’m telling you that what you did indeed hurt me, but despite that, I hold no grudge because I know your heart and you know mine. 

So stop worrying so much. Don’t spill tears over some broken bones, they look ugly on your face.”

  
  
Gon makes a noise that’s somewhere between choking, sniffling and giggling, which only makes the snot run down his face faster. He’s a mess, face cakey and gross from all the tears and mud.

  
  
"Thank you, Killua.” Gon’s voice is hoarse, throat raw. He’s trying to blink away the tears and Killua finds himself burning. 

  
  
"Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily. I expect you to take full responsibility and tend to my hands until they’re fully healed.”

  
  
Gon smiles and the world is right again.

**Author's Note:**

> if you caught on the naruto reference, congrats. you're gay.  
> leave me comments and kudos or perish<333
> 
> jk, follow me on twitter:[@mlmkillua](https://twitter.com/mlmkillua)  
> 


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